Category: Goth teen phone sex

Toothless

 

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My eyes flicker open, all I can see is the bright light above me. 

My head is pounding and my right eye is swollen. 

I try to sit up but I realize I am strapped down. 

I’m laying on some thing cold and smooth.

I tap my nails on it to try and make a sound but pain shot through my fingers. 

That is when I start to remember where I am.

My finger nails are gone, just bloody fingers now.

Someone leans over my face, but I can not see their face. 

All I can see is the out line of their body.. They dim down the bright light as they lean in closer.

I know those eyes.. 

It’s almost as if the person is smiling under their face mask. 

They are dressed as a scrubbed up surgeon. 

I go to move my lips and ask them what they want. 

But my mouth is pride open. 

My mouth is so dry. 

My tongue is stuck to gums. 

I try to move it to my teeth… 

I have no teeth.. 

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WHAT HAPPENED?!

Then I started to hear screaming.

I start to panic and I try to move.. That is when the table starts to move…

Its like I am in a standing position but I’m still strapped to the table.. 

Then I see the tv..

Its me screaming as that person is ripping out each tooth one by one…

I pass out from pain.. All I could do was just watch this happen to me. 

I feel something warm dripping off my toes. I look down.. I am covered in blood…

Who’s blood is this?! WHO’S BLOOD?!!!!!!!!!

 

 

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Bitch In The Red Dress

Have you ever wanted to literally rip someone’s heart out? Sure you have…I know you have…there was a girlfriend, a coworker, a relative, a friend…at some time in your life. The kind of person who you may have cared about at one time, or have hated eternally. But in some way, the pendulum swung and you hated that bitch’s fucking guts. So much, that you felt you could thrust your hand inside of the innermost part of them, and squeeze the life away…

Maybe strip her nice and naked. I know you can’t resist your dick straining against the front of your pants. You can see those pointy tits poking through the thin fabric of her silky dress…you wanna rip it off of her and spread those legs wide open. Wanna play, baby? I mean, look at that beautiful skin…it’s so soft. So smooth…so unblemished. Let’s light some matches and burn her eyelids off. 

I bet she’s gonna scream like a banshee and beg for release. Maybe, instead of tying her up, you should give her that release. Take your dick and pound her cervix wide open. Let the blood gush out…Wanna make some art? I’d love to see you carve some demonic symbols in her chest before we snuff her out.

Self Mutilation Phone Sex Fun

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When I meet someone that says they are into mutilation, I love to find out what they mean by mutilation. Are they into mutilating others? Or themselves? Or both? But what is more fun then anything is to force self mutilation on someone who would never think of doing it themselves. That is exactly what I did last night. I invited a cute little thing over and partied with her till she was nice and wasted, The power of suggestion is such a wonderful thing. It didn’t take me long to talk her into joining me. First I showed her how to stick a nice long needle through her tongue. Of course I did mine first and let her watch the blood drip down my face, Laughing the entire time and letting the effects of the drink and drugs alter her senses. When she leaned in and took the needle mimicking everything I just did, my panties filled with juices from my quivering pussy. I had to have more, A lot more. Taking a huge shoeing nail that I had sharpened long ago, I began self mutilation on my arms. Showing her how hard my nipples got from piercing my arms and letting the blood flow. When she took the nail from me and began the assault on her arms I had no clue she would be so brutal. Watching her crawl through her blood towards me just made me cum like crazy. I took a picture to keep forever. Of course for her it didn’t end well. It doesn’t for any of them. But hey that is the nature of the beast so to speak.mutilation phonesex 1

Sticks and Stones; Skulls and Bones

All of the girls at my school are giggly little sluts who act ditzy and retarded. They wear the sluttiest clothes and then complain when horny teenage boys cop a feel of their exposed tits! I mean, it’s high school, people. If you wear a mini-skirt that shows off your fat ass cheeks, you’re going to get leered at–and you’ll definitely be felt up. There’s this one little tramp–Clarissa–who’s especially annoying. She’s always being called on in class and never has an answer. Clarissa just gets this stupid look on her face and goes: “Umh, whaattt?” It’s almost comical. I just don’t think it’s fair for girls to picket against ‘Slut Shaming’ when they act like total whores. Clarissa holes are going to be destroyed. No one’s going to be gentle with the soft tissue of her little asshole when she finally gets shoved down and violated like the filthy bitch she is. I can’t wait to see Clarissa get what she deserves. All of that fluffy blonde hair being pulled out of her skull, and those perky tits sticking out and just asking to be smacked…it’ll be sexy as hell. You wanna go on a bender with me, baby…I know just the bitch to hunt the fuck down…

Portrait of Death

Portrait Of Death ~ NarcissusNarcosis

I will never forget the night
I first experienced the delight
of what it felt like
to take another human’s life..
I had fantasized nonstop
for a very long time
I knew no drug could top
the high I would find…

I spent the days leading up
carefully dissecting my plan
deciding how it would come to fruition
stalking out my first victim..
Still not sure why I picked him
maybe it was because he seemed
so set in doing good deeds.
And no good deed goes unpunished…

I tirelessly studied
his daily routines
even went to church
to watch him preach.
He would stand at his altar
babbling on and on about
hell, brimstone, and fire.
He talked about how demons walked the earth
to bring about the end.
If only he knew
the demon that would end him
was in the front row…

He had a beautiful wife
2 young  tykes and a dog
she would be a widow
weeping at an empty altar
and those brats would grow up
without a father.

I sharpened my blades well
different knives for different purposes
one for stabbing, one for slicing,
one for peeling skin
and a meat cleaver for dicing.
A bone saw to dismember
along with a small plastic case
to keep a trophy of him with me
forever…

He was a set-in-his-ways man
so I knew what he would be doing
we had a very nice date planned
no way it could be ruined.
I dressed in black fatigues
long-sleeve black shirt and black boots.
My tools were already in my car
as I left my house with a smile
didn’t have to drive far
he lived away only a few miles.

I drove to his house and parked
and waited for him to depart
just as expected, 8:29 PM
he said bye to the brats.

I followed him to the parking lot
of the Saturday night restaurant
he always went to
meeting friends at the I-HOP
for some self-righteous laughs and food.
He always parked at the side of the building
where I knew no cameras were filming
I crept behind him with a wire in my clutch
wrapped around his throat
until he ceased to choke
then dragged him to my trunk.
Once he was properly bound and gagged
we were off, on our way back to my pad.

He awoke wide-eyed with a look of fear
strapped to a table in the heart of my shed
I removed the tape so I could hear
him pray to a god that was already dead.
He asked me why I was doing this
and offered me money to let him go
said he had a family, had 2 brats
and I replied, “I already know.”

I took my time and had fun with him
wanted to see how much pain a body could withstand
I burned him with a torch and hammered his feet
and drove nails through his knees.
After such a short time, he could take no more
he kept passing out, he was such a bore…
I slit his throat and watched him bleed out
he almost looked like a pez dispenser..

After hours of cleaning up
any and all traces of blood
I placed his head neatly in a duffel bag
with a hole drilled through his skullcap.
I decided to play nice after all his work
and took him back to his very own church.
I used his keys to get in the back entrance
and placed his head on the altar
through the top was jammed a crucifix…
What a beautiful sight that would greet the Sunday crowd
I decided to go again to hear them scream aloud…

It all felt so right…
I knew I would be powerless to resist the urge
to kill again…
but this was only my first victim..
I had some great ideas and plans
to taunt the police
and let them know
something stronger than them
is taking over…

One for The Money

There’s this skank I know who doesn’t understand how to keep her piehole shut. She’s been causing a lot of shit to hit the fan running that mouth of hers, so I decided to use it for something useful–making me money. How many dicks can you fit down the throat hole of an annoying little twat? Mmmm, baby, let’s find out.

I’ll get the scissors and we can cut a nice, neat little slit right across that little bitch’s tummy. Everyone loves a nice pussy hole, asshole, and of course a tight, wet pink throat hole–but I’ve got a bigger plan. How would you like to whip that rock hard cock right out of those pants, baby . . . take it in your hand and grasp that boner while it twitches. Feel the heat radiating off of it in droves and picture pumping it in and out of this stupid fuckcunt. 

I’ll sell this whore out and get her nice and used up, so by the time I’m ready to snuff her out, she’s made me mounds of cash. It won’t be hard to get her to the area where she’ll spend the next weeks of her life as a living cumdoll. I’ll just sprinkle a ‘lil something-something in her drink to keep her nice and compliant while she’s fucked up and creamed in. Such a stupid cunt . . . she’ll regret crossing me, that’s for sure. I’m gonna mess that bitch the fuck up.

this little light of mine…

I like to hang out in houses that aren’t exactly finished. Some say it’s because I’m ’emo.’ Others give me frightened glances and then quickly lower their eyelids before my own shoot back. They think I don’t hear their whispers in the halls, catch their fearful expressions when I walk past; but I always do. The other day I was in my room, peeling the corner of a NIN poster back, and realized I was feeling a little chilly . . . and no, before you say it, it wasn’t just my cold heart. I needed some heat, a little excitement, a risk–and of course, a prize. So I slipped on my loafers and wandered into Northhaven–the quaint little subdivision being built a few miles down the road from me.

And there it was…a two-story McMansion under construction before me, with raindrop-splattered tarps and a material-strewn front lawn. I snickered to myself; this was just too easy. Crawling up onto a bulldozer on the left side of the house, I wiggled my way in through the open window. Brushing myself off, I surveyed my surroundings. It wasn’t long before I heard the voices of the very young little ones whom I’d overhead planning a trip here earlier that day. I cackled to myself and strode across the wooden planks of the upstairs bedroom, careful to avoid the unfinished sections of the house with exposed beams.

Following the giggles, I walked to the utmost back room and hide behind the large stone fireplace obstructing me from their view. I peeked out slowly and . . .

There they were: my prizes. Two of ’em–a little boy and his bitch, drinking vodka procured from their parents’ liquor cabinet, no doubt. I stood there silently for awhile and watched them pass the bitter drink back and forth between each other. Their faces twisted into grimaces as the burning heat flooded down their throats each into the pit of their stomachs. And my hands were struck with a sudden and distinct urge to rub together greedily.

Play time . . .

Baby, I’ll tell you all about what kinds of horrible things I made these two little songbirds do to one another with their pants off. Alice gave them a nice taste of what grown-up fun feels like . . . and then she added in some of her own sickness. Sitting on their faces, pissing down their throats. I stripped that little virgin bitch’s dignity and innocence away with her little boyfriend’s erect cock, and he wanted to cum inside of that cunt so bad, I bet he would’ve thanked me if I hadn’t had my fist rammed down his throat. When I was done with my game and the sky was growing dark outside . . . I stepped over the broken glass of the once-solid vodka bottle. Grabbing it along with my shoes, I strode back out the window, pouring liquid all the way.

. . . A bright orange spark flaring–I dropped the match. Flames. And then I walked away and left the dying screams behind me.

I’M INto CHoking your life And RaidinG your pEace of mind

Wanna know what gets me wet? Seeing the fingerprint imprints my hands make as I’m squeezing the breath out of your slimy throat. I like watching the abrasive red splotches darken to deep purple bruises as a result of my handiwork. It takes serious skill to stop the convulsing long enough to get a good knee kick into the underside of a fucking guy’s chin. An elbow across the forehead will split apart the skin . . . and as the blood is pouring out of the slash in his head, I’m doing an uppercut with my fist connecting all the pieces. It brings a smile to my face every time I see it. Maybe someday I’ll be a good little girl and pray before dinner, but for now, if you’re gonna fuck with me, be prepared to fear it…

Cutter

There’s something exhilarating about taking a razor blade to my wrist and slicing through the tender flesh. I fucking love to get off on rough sex. I fucking love self-mutilation because it makes me feel like I’m goddamn invincible. I’m always looking for a fight; tempt me, push me pussies . . . I need a good reason to give this trigger a good squeeze. I especially love torturing others. There’s nothing like the anguished screams of teens to fill a room with angst. Sexual mutilation is my favorite. Nothing beats the sickness. One time, I stitched a bitch’s pussy shut with a rusted sewing needle from my Mom’s old needlepointing kit in the garage. I used thick black yarn and beat her to the brink of death with a brick right in the head. I desperately kicked her ribs in and sewed her up like a puppet. She was so messed up by the time I started closing her holes up. No more dick in that little bitch, let me tell you. That sleazy ass whore wouldn’t be fucking anybody’s boyfriend anytime soon. Especially not MINE. That dumb little skank screamed like a banshee when I stitched her up, but the end result was fucking sick. I love my crazy mind . . . and you will too.

Maybe if I like you, I’ll show you a little bit of my mutilation magic using the slut of your choice. I’ll get a big ole knife or maybe a razor blade fresh from the shower, separated perfectly from the plastic handle and ready to slice deep. Then I’ll take her ass cheeks into my palms and give them a nice squeeze, getting them ready for my fun. We can always fuck her and fill her up with the thick white loads of creamy cum that mark a little whore, but we’ll need lots of spud. Get that hard cock and lube it up with her blood, baby. I’m going to make a nice pretty cut and carve my name . . . this stupid cunt will never forget who owns her ass. 

Gothic teen phone sex: Pet Project

Gothic Teen Phone Sex

I had never done this before, and I wasn’t very fond of young people…but…  I decided that the opportunity was too delicious to let slip away.  The young boy that I had previously used as bait, and subsequently planned to kill, was becoming something that I wanted to enjoy a little more.  I had never wanted to be a mother, but the possibilities of having this little demonic cherub to do my beckoning was too alluring to resist.  The way that he squinted up at me, that devilish smile, reminded me of a young boy that I had known when I was a little girl.  And, he had not flinched or panicked when had stabbed the priest; I had relied on the fact that he would startle awake and use the knife.  But, I did not anticipate the way he coldly thrust it into the body.  It was quite impressive for a first stabbing; usually, most people are clumsy, unsure, and messy.  No, this was a clean strike, one that was made with confidence. 

So, after our ordeal, I told him that he could take off the choir uniform; but, he insisted that he kind of liked it.  I could see the evil spinning in his head and I had to smile, too.  “When can we do this again?” he asked me.  Then, before waiting for a reply, he said, “What are we going to do next.”  I could see that being a surrogate keeper and mentor was going to take a lot of time and energy…and patience.  I explained to him that now he needed to return home, to act like normal; to say that he had gotten lost from the park.  I tried to emphasize that there is more to killing than just the act; one must not call attention to one’s self.  “Will you teach me, then?” he asked, eagerly.  I affirmed that I would; but, I said, “You belong to me.  You must always do as I say.”  He took off the choir robe, which I burned later; and, after making sure there was no evidence left behind, I walked home.  I laughed, thinking that I had just picked up a young boy as pet.

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